


Lost and Broken

by Jet



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, It's Not Going To Be Okay, Unhappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet/pseuds/Jet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night in Gotham, Dick finds something he could never have been prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to churrios and koumou for looking this over for me, and I'm sorry for the emotional trauma.

Of course Batman knew that Nightwing was in Gotham, but Dick was counting on his natural tendency to avoid anything that involved emotions after their last argument. Ostensibly, Robin was on solo patrol tonight - at least, that was the story they were sticking to. Dick grinned as he flipped down onto the roof beside Tim. "What've we got tonight?"

Tim gave him a brief smile before settling back into the serious "Robin face" he seemed to be cultivating. "There's a drug shipment coming in at the docks. Nothing major, but it's quiet tonight." Dick's visits tended to be in such lulls, so he could visit with Tim under the guise of crime-fighting. 

"Let's go knock some heads," Dick replied, leaping ahead. Tim followed him easily, taking the lead as they positioned themselves on a warehouse roof overlooking the deal. There were more toughs than expected, but nothing they couldn’t handle. He signaled Tim that he would follow his lead, and watched with pride as Robin swooped down. The crooks went down easily until two of the more enterprising ones suddenly bolted in opposite directions. A batarang to the shoulder brought one down, but the other managed to duck around a corner. 

“Got him,” Dick called, swinging up and taking a shortcut over the top of a tall shipping pallet. The runner, having not seen him, scrambled through a broken window on another warehouse. “Bad move,” Dick sighed at the man as he swung down into the window after him, just in time to see the thug go down to a roundhouse kick to the face. Dick raised his escrima as the unknown attacker whirled to face him, and then suddenly relaxed his stance. 

“Who are you?” Dick demanded as he immediately assessed the rest of the area. They were in a small room, probably an office, obviously abandoned. There was someone huddled in the corner, the goon laid out in front of him, and the unknown man, who was still standing there silently. He wasn’t attempting to appear either intimidating or un-, wasn’t really projecting any body language at all. Dick hopped down from the window ledge towards the man, as a cloud shifted and the moon suddenly shone through the window onto the face of-

“Jason?” Dick’s gasp was involuntary, and it _couldn’t_ be, there was no way, he was _dead_ \- 

“Don’t hurt him!” It was a girl’s voice, and Dick only realized that he’d been moving forward when he stopped. The huddled mass in the corner shifted, and he realized it was two girls, probably around Tim’s age. One was trying to pull the other back but she was standing up, speaking to him. “Don’t hurt him,” she repeated. “You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?”

Dick managed to spare her a glance before he went back to studying Ja- the figure. The face, the build, that _kick_ \- but his face was completely blank, looking past Dick with no recognition.

“I’m Nightwing,” he finally answered, mind whirling so thickly he couldn’t make out his own thoughts.

“Then you don’t need to hurt him, he don’t hurt nobody unless they bother us. We’re taking care of him, he’s protecting us.”

“You take care of him?” Dick finally pulled his eyes away from- Jason, who hadn’t moved except to shift on his feet, still staring blankly ahead.

“He ain’t,” and she gestured to her head. “He can’t even talk, but he’s a good fighter. No one messes with us when we’re with him, and he ain’t gonna hurt us. We find the places for us to sleep, and he guards them. We make sure he don’t get into trouble.”

“How long have you known him?” Dick felt lost. There was no way Jason could have survived, no way to fool Bruce, but what else could it be? He stepped forward again, and tentatively placed his gauntleted hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason’s face remained blank.

“Couple months, he just showed up one day. Guess someone got tired of dealing with him.” She spat off to the side.

“ _No_ ,” Dick said. “No, that’s not-”

“Nightwing?” He heard Tim land on the window ledge at the same moment as Jason jerked violently away from him.

“That’s- is that-” he had never heard Tim’s voice quite that thin before. Jason began making a low, strange moan, reaching up as if to shield his face. He was looking directly at the window, at T- at Robin.

“Robin, get outside,” he snapped, and heard Tim immediately obey. Jason quieted almost immediately, but he was hunched over as if he were hurt. When Dick reached for him again, he flinched away, curling in on himself.

Dick took a deep breath, ignored the terrible sick feeling in his gut, and steadied his voice. “Robin, arrange for transport. Tell B to meet us at the cave.” Slowly, carefully, he knelt down in front of Jason. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. Jason rocked back and forth, ignoring him. “It’s going to be okay.” He wished he knew why he was bothering to lie.

*

Tim perched just out of sight of the medical bay. If he looked, he could watch Alfred’s painstaking examination of Jason there. If he listened, he could make out Bruce and Dick speaking urgently in low tones near the mainframe. He was in civilian clothes now; he’d changed as soon as they were back. He wasn’t sure if it would upset - Jason, he’d known who it was immediately, he’d photographed him hundreds of times - to see him out of uniform, but it was better not to take the chance. He focused on a blank spot on the cave wall, not seeing it as his mind kept repeating one word, “how? how? how?,” and he was no closer to a solution than he had been for the last several hours.

“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, and Tim’s head snapped up. Alfred seemed to have finished, leaving Jason freshly scrubbed, his scrapes bandaged and his body wrapped up in a blanket. “I would like to retrieve some of Master Jason’s clothing. Perhaps it would be better if you sat with him.”

Alfred thought it was Jason, too. Tim took a deep breath and dropped down into view. “All right, Alfred.” Jason made no sign of noticing his presence, so Alfred nodded and made his way up to the manor. Tim stood there for a moment as Jason sat impassively, blinking occasionally. Finally he took a seat next to him. 

“I-” he began, as the murmur of Dick’s voice grew louder. “I don’t know if you can understand me,” and he’d been recalling everything he knew about the areas of the brain, damage to the cerebral cortex, whether higher cognition could- “My name is Tim, and I’ve always admired you.” He swallowed as the argument - it was obviously an argument now - grew louder. “It’s- an honor to meet you, Jason.”

Dick’s voice finally became a yell. “-not some sort of _trick_ , Bruce! It’s Jason, and he’s _hurt_.” Bruce’s answering growl wasn’t quite distinct enough to make out, but he was unmistakably angry. Tim winced, and turned back to Jason, who hadn’t reacted to the outburst. His face remained the same, except for the tear now glistening on his cheek. Tim suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, a cold hand clenching in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispered, as he heard Dick’s voice move through the cave, undoubtedly following Bruce as he walked away. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else he could say.


End file.
